


When Does Tired Mean Anything Other Than Sad?

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ed being oblivious, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oswald regretting not telling Ed his feelings, changing a scene from season three, slightest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Ed notices there's something off when Oswald walks in on him and Isabella kissing, but trying to get his friend to tell him what is bothering him is quite hard.





	When Does Tired Mean Anything Other Than Sad?

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered what it would have been like if Ed had realized Oswald saying he's tired actually meant he's heart broken.

Ed felt his heart soar when Isabella assured him that his sordid violent past didn’t bother her. He had felt so clean for a moment when she had taken hold of his hand placing it against her chest, the feeling of her beating heart, the knowledge that she was alive, and unlike with Kristen, the voice in his head was not screaming at him to inflict harm on this woman. He’d found himself so relieved, he felt human, and normal. In his mind he could almost already picture white picket fences and normalcy, it was what he felt when they kissed. He felt relief and a future with her.

That was until their moment was interrupted by Oswald. Ed felt an immediate sensation of embarrassment laced with shame as he broke away from the kiss, Isabella seemed to mostly not be phased by their intimate moment being intruded upon. Ed felt initially that he was ashamed, because this was Oswald’s home after all, he realized in the grand scheme of things that perhaps it was socially unacceptable to be making out with his date in his friend’s home, especially when he didn’t realize she was there. What confused him though was the look on Oswald’s face, he’d stopped speaking and just looked at the two of them. Ed felt a strange worrying sadness, he could easily sense that something was off with his friend. There were times it was easy for Ed to read what his friend was feeling, but when he’d try to broach the topic of Oswald being sad or upset, it generally ended with Oswald getting annoyed and yelling at him.

He could feel Isabella’s hand against his hip, a firm squeeze, her eyes still locked on Oswald, and he felt a growing confusion when he glanced over at her noticing as she straightened her back. He looked back to Oswald who was quick to avert his gaze, cheeks flushed as he managed out that he was tired then hobbled out of the room.

When Isabella kissed him again he had felt different, he didn’t picture the white picket fence life, or a large yard with a dog running around in it. He just felt guilty and he couldn’t fully comprehend the feeling of guilt. He knew when he gently pushed her away that she was upset, he did his best to lie and tell her that he wasn’t feeling all that well, that he had to be up early in the morning for a meeting. He felt she believed his lie, but the way she looked at his face looking for any sign of a lie made him shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably. He felt relieved when finally, she kissed his cheek before wishing him a good night, he watched her as she left, and found himself worrying about his friend. All his thoughts surrounding her, surrounding the fact she didn’t mind what he’d done, all those thoughts were gone.

Ed found himself gathering the courage to go check on Oswald. It wasn’t exactly abnormal for him to enter his friend’s bedroom, but again he knew how the other man was when he was upset. He tended to hide his emotions under layers of rage and agitation, choosing instead to be sarcastic and childish. It was something that would frustrate Ed to no end during the times he needed him to just be straight with him, but other times he found himself oddly fond of his friend’s outrageous fits. Ed stood outside his bedroom door, ear pressed against its wood surface as if he could hear anything through it, half the time the mansion felt sound proof, and he didn’t feel like questioning if that was a purposeful design or accidental. Hesitantly he rapped his knuckles against the door, the sound rather low as it softly echoed through the hallway. He paused, waited, and received no response. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he knocked again, this time more firmly and with a more assertive purpose. Still nothing. 

Perhaps he’d read the signs wrong and Oswald wasn’t upset, but he’d said something about his night as if something might have happened. If something bad happened then he felt he had the right to know about it, whether it be something that could harm their political standing or something personal, he felt he had the right to know. Again, he knocked, his frustration turning to a bothersome worry as he still received no response, not even the sound of an aggravated voice telling him to piss off.

Ed let out a shaky breath as he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open. He nervously entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him. The large room was mostly darkened except for the light by the bed that illuminated his friend’s figure. Oswald sat still fully dressed, legs hanging over the side of the bed and his face buried in his hands. Cautiously Ed approached him, as he grew closer he could see his shoulders shaking, and finally hear crying. 

“Oswald?” He asked, voice timid as he wondered just why his friend was crying.

Perhaps whatever had happened at the dinner had been bad, maybe it was something else, or maybe he had done something wrong.

“Go away”

“You’re crying, why are you crying?”

Oswald lowered his hands to his lap, he stared up at him with red rimmed eyes, cheeks flushed making the endless mesh of freckles even more visible than they normally were. There was a look of familiar bratty annoyance as he glared up at him as if the question asked was just the dumbest one in the world, this was a look Ed was quite accustomed to getting from people in his life.

“Don’t you have that girl downstairs waiting for you, Isabelle?” 

Ed noted the disgust in his voice as he mispronounced her name, by default he found himself correcting him. “Actually, it’s Isabella and I had her go home early. Did, did something happen at the dinner?”

His friend looked him over for a moment, remaining quiet as if wondering if he should even converse with him. “Yes, actually something did happen. Some maniac interrupted the dinner threatening to kill us if we didn’t drink this wine that he’d tainted. Something about his dead sister, the cops were saying something about her being a meta human.” Oswald explained, he said it all so casually that Ed almost didn’t know how to react.

He knew though that what happened was not the reason for the crying. 

Ed seated himself next to him on the bed, he kept his hands folded on his own lap not too sure what else he could even do with them, and suddenly feeling worried about over stepping any boundaries. “Why didn’t you just tell me that before?”

He scoffed, “You seemed rather busy kissing that woman, I felt if you were interested in what happened then we could talk in the morning.” He responded, tone bitter.

He noted how he wasn’t looking at him any longer, he was staring down at the floor, tears still occasionally sliding down his cheeks. 

“What happened at the dinner, that’s not what made you cry. Did something else happen?” 

Even as the question left his mouth he knew it was dumb, a part of his mind told him exactly what the issue was. It was something he had done, it was what he’d been doing with Isabella downstairs. A part of him wondered if it was just because he was upset at Ed doing such things without letting him know first or if it was something more.

“Nothing, I just told you that I’m tired, that’s all.” He deflected shaking his head. 

He watched as Oswald roughly rubbed at his eyes seeming annoyed at himself for crying like this as if he hadn’t spent weeks in Ed’s bed crying after the loss of his mother, even in recent times Ed had caught him on several occasions crying over the loss of both his parents. He didn’t understand why now he suddenly seemed embarrassed to be crying in front of him of all people.

“You’re still fully dressed though, if you’re tired or not feeling well then you should change, and get into bed….If there’s something else bothering you, you know that you can talk to me, right?” He kept his tone gentle, gentle yet urging as if he wanted to just beg him to let him know what was going on.

Oswald closed his eyes turning his head away from him. Ed watched as he nervously curled his fingers against the palm of his hand, nails scratching against his skin. Cautiously Ed placed a hand on his knee giving it a gentle squeeze, he could feel Oswald tense beneath his touch and he immediately pulled his hand away, an apology quickly coming forth.

“Don’t.” Oswald spoke softly.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again, I just misread-“

“I meant don’t apologize, I feel like you’re apologizing to me all the time, and most times you’re apologizing for offenses you didn’t even commit.” He chided as he finally turned his head to look at him again.

“I just got the feeling that you’re upset with me and I was worried, I don’t like thinking that I in some way did something to hurt or offend you.” 

The other man looked at him as if searching for some sign of a lie, but instead just saw confusion and a naïve honesty in his friend’s brilliant brown eyes. Oswald looked away again swallowing hard, a silence grew between them for a minute.

“Do you, do you really believe that you’re in love with her? I mean you really do barely know her.” 

Ed looked at him wondering why suddenly he was asking about his feelings towards Isabella again. Immediately he went to assure him that he was in fact in love with her, but instead he found the words becoming stuck in his throat. “I, I don’t know if I love her or not. She’s, she looks so much like Ms. Kringle, but she’s nothing like her. She doesn’t care that I killed people, she doesn’t judge me, and that makes me feel safe in a sense.”

He watched as more silent tears rolled down his friend’s cheeks, he nodded his head solemnly as if a doctor had just delivered him terrible news. Again, Ed reached over, except this time he took hold of his hand lacing their fingers together. Oswald froze, eyes closing as he gasped at the contact.

“Ed, there’s something I wanted to tell you the other night, and I should have told you before, but I just never got the courage to do so. I want to do it now, but I’m worried that I already missed my chance.” 

Ed smiled at him reassuringly, he gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re friends Oswald, you can tell me anything. You know that I care for you very deeply.” 

Oswald smiled, he pulled his hand away from his turning slightly, so he could more properly face him. Ed could feel his heart beating more quickly in his chest, that unknown anxiety building that he’d felt earlier when revealing his past to Isabella. 

“Ed I, I’ve never in my life been close to another person the way that I’m close with you. I spent my entire life just scoffing at people for chasing after these intimate relationships with each other, they were always trusting one another, and creating connections, and it always ends with betrayal and death. With you though, I, there’s been something so different about you. You’ve been my only real true friend and the more time I have gotten with you, the more I’ve gotten to know you I feel my initial feelings shifting and growing. Ed, I, I love you.” 

There was a silence between them, each passing second causing Oswald even more anxiety as he began to second guess himself more and more. He got up from the bed walking away, he began nervously pacing.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re with somebody now, I just felt if I didn’t tell you now then I’d never get the chance. I hope I haven’t made things weird between us.” 

Ed watched him as he paced, his brain was still processing his miniature speech, still processing the look in his emerald green eyes as the words ‘I love you’ had fallen from his lips. His heart felt heavy in his chest, fingers numb, and he wasn’t quite sure what he should do or say. Wordlessly he got up from the bed quickly approaching the other man, Oswald ceased in his pacing and looked up at him. It hurt Ed to see a hint of fear in his eyes as he stared up at him, he wondered if he truly believed he would hurt him over this. 

Tentatively Ed placed one hand against his cheek and the other hand against his hip, on instinct Oswald leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping him as he nuzzled against the palm of his hand. Ed leaned down pressing his lips against his forehead, then against the bridge of his nose, and finally allowing them to press against his lips. He wanted to smile knowing he’d caught him off guard, feeling him freeze once more before his brain caught up with recent events, and soon Oswald was kissing him back. Their kiss was gentle and unsure, Oswald’s fingers curling in Ed’s hair giving it a gentle tug. In his mind Ed didn’t picture the white picket fences or the large yard with a dog, but he could picture nights spent curled up together on the loveseat downstairs and holding his hand under the table during meetings. 

When the kiss ended he rest his forehead against his, smiling down at his friend. He hummed as he felt Oswald’s fingers lovingly stroking against the back of his neck, the simple gentle touch sending a shiver down his spine. 

“I love you” Ed whispered, his smile widening as he realized how easily the words had come.

Oswald wrapped his arms around his waist hugging him tightly, face buried against his shoulder. Ed held him back, he rubbed his hand along his back feeling him tremble as he began crying again, but this time from happiness instead of the pain of heart break. Ed knew he wasn’t going to have white picket fences or normalcy dating another killer like himself, but a part of him felt he could live without that just so long as he was loved.


End file.
